


Together

by SomethingToShare



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Deceit drinks some milk, Don't copy to another site, OR DOES HE...?, Was written as platonic/familial but could be read as romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21824656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingToShare/pseuds/SomethingToShare
Summary: ‘Just don’t lie to me, please.’ He growled. ‘I have enough of a headache as it is.’ Morality opened his mouth, then closed it.‘Sorry, I don’t know- What do you want me to do?’ He spoke softly, leaning in closer. ‘What would help?’
Relationships: Patton/Deceit
Comments: 10
Kudos: 40





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This one was made spontaneously a while back, and I just spent the last couple of hours editing and polishing it. I don't normally put stuff up without thinking it through for a while, but hey! Thought I'd give it a go :).
> 
> The piece is in a strange mix of verse and prose. That's just how my brain went with it, so I left it that way. Hope you enjoy!

Deceit looks back on the scene, a stiff smirk painted on his face.

  
Four sides, grumbling to themselves in shared frustration. Annoyed, but together.

  
Working as a

  
whole.

His smirk.

  
It stays there when he goes back to his room,

  
It stays when he talks to Remus,

  
It stays as he passes Virgil,

  
(A hiss slipping through the other’s gritted teeth),

  
And then

It sinks. Dirt sludging off his face, down to the bottom of his stomach.

  
Heavy.

* * *

It was night, and the black ‘space’ outside could be seen through the slits hanging in front of the kitchen window. Unconscious. Thomas was asleep: Most of him, at least.

  
He put his head in his hands.

  
He was so numb,

  
So tired. And it was tiring, feeling everything Thomas wanted to hide;

  
Nervous, scared, excited, worried,

  
Hateful.

  
The last one was for him. He dipped a finger in the cool glass of milk in front of him, still not entirely sure why he had grabbed it. It felt fresh against the dry skin, something that hadn’t yet been spoilt by time, or hatred, or worry.

  
He flicked the droplets dripping from his finger out onto the countertop with a huff, hand pressed against his face. It wasn’t like it was wasteful or anything. You can’t waste a drink that’s not even _real_.

  
He paused, sat in silence.

  
Full, sweltering silence.

A pale white glow faded into life,

  
Casting the edges between light and shadow

  
Into a faint blue,

  
Stretching into a cool yellow where the light catches brighter,

  
Bars of gold hovering across the surface

  
And onto his hand,

  
Cast shimmering along the glass

  
And into pale depths,

  
The darkness seeming a little less dark;

  
The colour of a true night’s sky spilling over into the dark kitchen, the light

  
Holding it all in a perfect, quiet stillness.

  
It’s still quiet, though now the world seems to breathe a sigh of long,

  
Peaceful relief. Finally, life.

  
He did not move,

  
Nor feel relief.

  
But still,

  
He sighed.

A sound. Like a chair

  
Moving. Deceit looked up

  
And Morality stood in front of him, moonlight

  
From a Moon and sky full of stars that hadn’t been there before,

  
Edged the soft curls of his hair, the rim of his glasses,

  
The curves and depths of his face. He smiled.

  
‘Long night?’ Before he could continue, Deceit snapped.

  
‘Just don’t lie to me, _please_.’ He growled. ‘I have enough of a headache as it is.’ Morality opened his mouth, then closed it.

  
A placid face

  
No emotion. Deceit moaned.

  
‘That’s just as bad.’ He turned away. Morality’s shoulders relaxed, his mask broken

  
With the crease of his brow.

  
‘Sorry, I don’t know- What do you want me to do?’ Morality spoke softly, leaning in closer. ‘What would help?’

  
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Deceit swivelled in his seat, voice harsh, ‘maybe stick around? Have a nice _chit-chat_

  
And get some emotions off our chest, act as if we’ve discovered something

  
_New_ and _revolutionary_ about ourselves, and **then** do

  
The exact

  
Same

  
Thing, just a few months later?’

  
Morality blinked, then shrugged, trying not to smile.

  
‘Okay. I’d love to chat.’

  
Deceit sagged in his chair, flicking the glass in front of him with a sour expression.

  
‘You’re an idiot.’

  
‘Oh?’ He sat down next to the other.

  
‘… I’m not talking to you.’ Deceit said.

  
‘No?’

  
‘I wouldn’t talk to anyone. Not like this.’

  
‘Why not?’ Deceit leaned back, hands clamped firmly over his ears.

  
‘Nope. I’m not- Oh, I am not being redeemed in the middle of the night drinking a glass of **mil** -‘

  
‘Redeemed?’

  
He froze. ‘Who said you needed to be redeemed?’

  
Deceit looked over at the other side

  
Very,

  
_Very_ ,

  
Carefully.

  
He licked his lips, empty of their usual hollow words.

  
‘That’s none of your business.’

  
‘Alright.’ His tone is light, and he smiled softly as he spoke. Deceit raised a brow.

  
‘You’re… surprisingly blasé about this. I thought you were the nosy type.’ Morality’s eyes flickered to him,

  
Full of dark, earthly warmth. From inside Deceit’s chest,

  
He could still feel it: The pounding. The whisper of a disguise

  
Hiding Morality’s overwhelming concern, held sickly in his chest

  
And tightening against his throat and jaw as he kept the words down.

  
His kindness felt like bile, slicked across Deceit’s tongue. _Eghck_.

  
‘Do you want me to be?’

  
‘ _Ugh_ , no. I want you to be honest, just- I want to hear the truth, from _you_ ,

  
Not just as some weird thought in my head.’ He taps his hat. ‘Is that too much to ask? Really?’

  
Patton bites his lower lip, turning away for a moment before meeting Deceit’s eyes.

  
‘You want that?’

  
Deceit nods. ‘Okay,’ Morality sighs, ‘so.

  
To be honest. I don’t always know how to deal with you, or… know if I even want to interact with you at all.’

  
‘Of course.’ He lets out a bitter laugh.

  
‘But I _do_ care about you, Dee-uh, Deceit.’

  
He leans towards him. ‘I want you to feel comfortable and safe to talk to us. I want

  
To

  
Know

  
You better.’

  
Deceit looked away, hands clenching

  
Before releasing. His face shifted from strained to tense confusion.

  
‘Well.’ He coughed. ‘That wasn’t so hard now, was it?’ Deceit’s voice shook.

  
He heard a sniff.

  
_Uh-oh. Feelings._

  
‘I didn’t know that’s what you needed.’ Morality goes to brush the swelling tears from his eyes,

  
But stopped. Instead,

  
He rested his arms on the counter,

  
Staring deep into Deceit’s eyes as he cried. ‘I didn’t know. I didn’t _want_ to know, but…’

  
His eyes, so deep and dark,

  
Brown shimmering into tears, a flush of red across freckled skin.

  
Deceit glanced away, then back, shifting uncomfortably.

  
‘Uh- Morality?’ The side stopped, staring with wide eyes. ‘Are you-?’

  
‘YOU DON’T EVEN FEEL LIKE YOU CAN USE MY NAAME.’ He sobbed, head buried in his hands. ‘HOW- How do I make you feel welcome, safe? I don’t know what to _do_ with you, Dee.’

  
Deceit’s jaw dropped.

  
‘I never _asked_ you to make me feel comfortable, M-‘ He paused. ‘I understand that my connection to you and the others is a strictly professional situation. You really don’t have any obligation to add me to your strange family dynamic.’

  
The hunched figure’s shaking stilled a little.

  
‘It’s FamILY.’ He murmured.

  
‘Is that not what I said?’ Morality rolls to one side, lifting up an arm to show a messy face composed of snot and tears.

  
‘No, it’s not.’ He said softly. ‘FamILY is- it’s who we are together. Supporting and loving each other. It’s feeling comfortable together, it’s feeling safe together. It’s knowing that we have others in our lives that we can be… honest. With.’ He looked guilty.

  
‘It would hardly be my place, then,’ Deceit said, low and bitter, ‘to try and fit myself into that framework.’ Morality shot up.

  
‘No! I mean yes- wait, uh, no! No!’ He let out a huff of frustration, searching around for the words whilst wiping his face with a forearm viciously. ‘Deceit, just because you represent what Thomas lies about, doesn’t mean that you can’t be honest with us.’

  
‘That’s… literally my job.’ Deceit said.

  
‘Or, well- That’s not what I mean.’ Morality sighed. ‘My point is,’ he clapped his hands together, slow but firm, ‘is that even if you have to lie to us, or hold information from us sometimes,’ he said slowly, ‘that doesn’t mean… that _you_ have to lie to us… about how _you_ feel. I mean,’ He looked at Deceit, ‘it’s not like you always _want_ to keep things from us, is it?’ Deceit’s hand twitched. Morality’s shoulders slouched slightly. ‘You have to lie to us if that’s what Thomas wants, right?’ He asked softly. ‘In a way, it’s the rest of us that make you a liar.’

  
The silence hung for a moment. The fridge hummed in the background, familiar and low.

  
‘I… wish that I could…’ He stopped. ‘Hypothetically…’ Stop. ‘Yeah.’ He sagged. ‘Yeah, that’s how things are right now. Thomas only started admitting that he lies to himself in the last year or so, but he hasn’t reached the point of admitting that he does it on _purpose_ , that it’s not just an ‘evil’ part of himself or something ridiculous like that.’ Morality raised his eyebrows.

  
‘Wow. That was very honest of you.’ He said. Deceit glared, but not with contempt, or anger. Morality saw…

  
Determination.

  
‘It’s… It’s the one thing I want to change.’ He said. ‘I want Thomas to realise what he’s doing to himself, how his excuses are hurting and hindering him. I just- I want what’s best for us.’ Morality smiled.

  
‘That’s what we do for FamILY, huh.’

  
‘No, that’s what I do for _Thomas_.’

  
‘It’s the same thing.’ Morality said quietly. He slid off the chair, looking at Deceit intently.

  
‘We’re watching a movie tomorrow night.’ He said. ‘I know it might not be your usual kind of gig, but… it’s there. And if you want to chat any time, or just hang out… my door is always open.’

  
‘Hn.’ He stared at his milk. Morality watched.

  
‘Oh, and Deceit?’ He looked over. ‘You don’t need to be, uh, ‘professional’ with me. It’s okay if you wanna use my name.’ He sped up. ‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but-‘

  
‘I’ll keep it in mind.’ He leaned back with a glare, this time conjured from _sheer annoyance_. ‘You can go now. It’s late, I know you’re tired.’ The other side gave him a small smile.

  
‘Alright. Goodnight, Deceit.’

  
Deceit watched as Patton walked away into the night, slipping around the corner and up the stairs. He took a long sip of his drink, and stared out of the window, at the empty view.

  
The moonlit, speckled, ‘empty’ view. _Atrocious_. With a wave, it was gone.

  
‘Goodnight.’ He mumbled.

  
The chair gave a husky screech as he dragged himself off to bed.


End file.
